


Printer Error

by knlalla



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Dan Howell Is Not A Youtuber, First Meetings, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Meet-Cute, anachronistic phone capabilities, dan writes amazingphil fanfic, phil is though, phil still has emo fringe sorry, unrealistic representation of reader interaction on a fic, wow who knew i could write in 3rd person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: Dan's a fanfic writer who's desperate to meettheAmazingPhil, but one printing mishap could bring him closer to his idol than he ever anticipated.





	1. danisnotonfire

If someone had asked Dan why, exactly, he decided to study at the University of Bradford, he would spout some nonsense about how it's a fantastic school with a well-reputed philosophy program. 

He absolutely would _not_ tell them that it was entirely a plot designed to get him closer to his internet crush of nearly a year, AmazingPhil, who just so happened to be studying not too far from there. He would also refrain from mentioning that he hops a bus to York’s library most afternoons not to study, but to hopefully catch a glimpse of the man himself - that would be borderline stalking, and Dan isn't _stalking_ Phil. He’s just a fan.

A very _very_ dedicated fan. 

But it's now nearly three weeks into the semester, Dan's first proper semester at uni, and he's yet to spot the elusive YouTuber. Granted, the guy _did_ admit to spending most of his time in his room, but Dan had struggled to come up with any other location he might casually run into Phil. 

He isn't _obsessed_ , he’s really just a fan. And besides, he has to get his assignments done _somewhere_ , does it really matter if he chooses to do them at a small wooden table tucked into the corner of York's library, where he has a perfect view of the entrance? 

He's been sat there for the past hour, tapping at keys to turn words into sentences that make no actual sense, but he's got an essay to turn in tomorrow and he needs to hand in _something._ That doesn't stop him from glancing up after every third word to check the door, to ensure he hasn't missed any black-haired emo boys coming in. But no, just the reception desk and Susan the librarian, an older woman he's become nearly as familiar with seeing in person as he has with seeing Phil on a grainy computer screen.

 _I can take a quick five-minute break, I've got nearly a page written..._ he decides, though the moment he pulls up AmazingPhil’s page on YouTube, he knows this break will be anything but quick. After plugging in his headphones, he clicks on a video at random and leans forward on an elbow to watch - he's seen this one before, of course, where Phil predicts his future for the year. Dan doesn't believe in that nonsense for even a second, but he wouldn't mind being the ‘energetic warrior’ Phil meets this year. _If only he'd actually show up, then I could introduce myself…_

But another hour passes, and Dan's still only seen Phil through the screen, so he shuts his laptop with a groan and stands, belatedly hoping nobody’s heard him. _Maybe tomorrow,_ he tells himself for the thousandth time. He offers a sheepish wave to Susan as he exits, not surprised at his lack of luck but disappointed as ever. 

\-----------------------

Dan's given up. It’s been months now, and he's come to terms with the fact that he will likely _never_ meet his idol and crush. And that's perfectly fine.

That certainly doesn't stop him from spending every day after classes at the York library, tucked in his usual corner with his fingers flying over his keyboard. And unfortunately, his acceptance doesn't stop the little spark of hope from popping up in his chest every time someone walks through the door. But _really,_ he’s over it - if he can't have the real AmazingPhil, he'll just have to make do with the one on his screen.

And maybe the one in fanfiction as well.

He hadn't really _meant_ to stumble across it, but he'd been reading through the comments on one of Phil's videos, and there’d been a link with a promise of more Phil content, and how could he resist that? Perhaps it was some secret page where Phil posted extra videos for his truly dedicated viewers, the ones who, like Dan, would spend hours scrolling through anything and everything related to Phil. It wasn’t like Dan had an assignment to work on or anything.

It had been what he now acknowledges as a pretty poorly written Phil x reader, but it had caught his attention, the idea that someone out there could - and _did_ \- write something that allowed Dan to imagine himself there with Phil in ways he had scarcely let himself dream of - only in the middle of the night, sweaty and flushed and tucked under his covers; at least there, with these stories in his head, he could pretend his infatuation had real basis, that Phil actually knew he existed. His fantasies had only grown from then, until the meager amount of quality fanfiction had failed to meet his needs.

So he started writing his own.

Which is exactly what he's doing now, hunched over his laptop in his spot in the library and typing away at another chapter of his _much_ less cringe Phil x reader fic - in this one, Phil's asked the reader to take part in a video, something Dan's dreamt of since he started watching the man ages ago. It's a little funny, he thinks as he types, that there are so many others out there just like him, wishing for the chance to meet their idol and having to cope with some poorly-thrown-together messes of stories that jump straight to Phil fucking them - not that Dan's complaining about _that_ , more just about the lack of believability. Dan wants more from his fictional representation of Phil, and apparently his growing group of readers does as well - most of them, anyway.

He scans the last sentence a few times; he's not at all satisfied with this chapter, but his bus arrives in less than five minutes. With a sigh, he sends the draft to the printer, so he can read it aloud once he gets home. It's a trick he picked up when he first got it in his head to start writing fanfiction, somewhere around two in the morning when he'd been desperate to ignore his looming assignment deadlines and had turned to the depths of the internet for something to educate and distract him. Apparently, something about seeing one’s writing on paper and the act of speaking and listening to the story utilize different parts of the brain, or so he read, so it's a good way to edit and check for flow. Or to determine just how shit this particular chapter is. Even as he wanders over to the printer, he's almost certain he'll end up scrapping it and starting over. _And won't the readers just_ love _that, danisnotonfire taking ages to upload, as usual…_

After a solid minute of wallowing in his frustration - well, his frustration with himself, with how much time it takes him to post each chapter - he frowns down at the printer. Which has failed to make any kind of whirring noise to indicate it's doing its job. He checks the power, and even the plug, but the thing seems to be turned on and operational, no error messages either. He grumbles and rushes back over to his laptop, smashing the print button again. _I don't fucking have time for this, my bus leaves in- ugh, three minutes._ He glares over his shoulder at the printer, still mocking him with its silence. He almost debates trying once more, but the chapter he managed to bash out was pretty shit, and he's highly doubting he'll use it anyway, so he shoots the horrible machine a final burning look before packing his things and rushing out the door. He makes his bus with only a minute to spare.

\--------------------------------------

Dan’s back the next day with a _much_ better idea in mind for his current fic, already having deleted most of his horrendous chapter from the day before - there’d been one good bit at the beginning, though, that he decides to keep as a starting point. As he writes, he’s so absorbed in the tiny universe he’s created that he doesn’t even bother checking the door every two minutes; it’s not til he sits back, pointer hovering over the print button, that he remembers his predicament from the day before.

His eyes flick up to Susan at the front desk, who’s very clearly focused on her own work. _Maybe the printer’s fixed now, and I can just..._ he clicks print, hoping to avoid having to interact, and makes his way over to the noiseless machine. Before he’s even arrived, he can tell it’s a lost cause - he will, unfortunately, have to _talk_ to someone.

But he’s not _exceptionally_ uncomfortable around Susan, with the few brief exchanges they’d had in the past - most notably, the one where he had to explain that he wasn’t actually a student here. That had been...interesting. But she’d taken pity on him, he assumes, and had let him through without a student ID for York. She looks up as he approaches the desk.

“Dan!” His eyes go wide for a moment, genuinely surprised she remembers his name. It’s not like they’re best buds or anything. “How can I help you?” He watches her eyes crinkle as she smiles, a close-mouthed grin that would probably look rude coming from anyone but the little old lady of a librarian.

“I, uh, was printing something for class,” he feels his cheeks heat at the lie, though she’d obviously have no way of knowing his actual purpose. “And it seems like the printer isn’t working? I was able to use it just last week,” he adds, shifting on his feet. _What if they’ve started charging to print or something?_ Wouldn’t that be his luck, he’d have to start writing in his own school’s library if he wanted to keep up the editing process he has now.

 _And there would go any chance I’d had of running into Phil,_ he thinks in spite of his tentative acceptance that it just isn’t going to happen. Even now, whenever there’s a new video, Dan listens with his breath held, wondering if he’d missed seeing Phil but Phil had somehow noticed him. Wondering if he’d be someone worth mentioning, that guy who sits in the corner of the library all afternoon, who always seems to be around. Dan highly doubts it, but it’s another nice fantasy to add to his growing list of prompt ideas.

“Dan, dear, are you alright?” Susan’s voice makes him blink and refocus. He plasters on a smile and nods at the scrunched brows and look of concern on her face.

“Sorry, yes, just missed what you said?” He assumes she’s answered him by the way she’s staring, though he really has no idea what that answer was.

“Oh, no trouble, dear, I just said this printer’s been swapped with the one near the other entrance,” she points, “so if you’ve printed something, it’s just been sent over there,” and she’s back to grinning again, but Dan’s pretty sure his blood has run cold. He offers a tight smile in return, then spins on a heel and powerwalks past the aisles to the other entrance. 

_Shit shit shit shit_ runs through his head on repeat, perfectly in time with the beating of his feet on the carpeted floors, and he can feel heat crawling up his cheeks. _I printed that shit chapter_ twice _yesterday and just left it, maybe it’s still-_

Finally _finally_ he spots the other printer, no longer whirring but he can clearly see the sheets of paper from here. It’s not in an _immediately_ visible location from the entrance, so maybe- _fuck, that’s complete bullshit, it’s pretty much out in the open, anyone could’ve seen something printing, or the people who work here in the evening could’ve grabbed it, or…_ he groans. 

It’s not that he’s necessarily embarrassed about the existence of the fic, or even that he wrote it - he’s pretty sure it can’t be tied to him, anyway - it’s more a secondhand embarrassment for _Phil_ , the guy who studies on this campus, who _anyone_ might know. Even some random person who’d picked up those papers by mistake, or who’d been cleaning up for the night and caught a glimpse of Phil’s name. 

_Oh god_ , he thinks as he scans the sheets of paper from the printer - no longer warm in the time it’d taken him to find them - it’s his writing, but definitely _not_ the chapter he’d double-printed yesterday. _Shit, what if Phil’s so utterly mortified by someone he knows seeing fanfiction about him that he just stops posting videos?_ It takes all of Dan’s willpower to stalk back over to his usual spot and shove the papers and his laptop into his bag. He hopes the roiling in his gut settles by the time he gets home, or he’s not sure how he’ll edit this.

He can see the fucking headlines now - internet headlines, anyway: _Creepy Fanfiction Writer danisnotonfire Makes YouTuber AmazingPhil Go Into Hiding_. It’d be all his fault, and _fuck_ there hasn’t even been a video lately, and certainly not one since yesterday evening. _What if someone found the chapter, told him about it?_ If it were Dan, the mortification of that alone would leave him a useless mess on the floor for at least a week; he’d never been confident in front of a camera - he’d tried - but he doubts he’d _ever_ be able to film something again if he were in Phil’s shoes.

_What the fuck have I done?_

\-------------------------------------------------

It’s been three days since The Incident and at least five since the last AmazingPhil video. And Dan can’t properly sleep.

Which his readers end up _loving_ \- he’s more productive in his writing than he’s ever been, and he’s actually getting a few assignments done for his classes as well. _Done_ , not necessarily done _well_. But completed is better than nothing.

Technically, his readers had loved it _at first_ , when he’d flooded them with chapter after chapter of this adorable meet-cute, but now they’ve turned impatient. Every comment - and there are far more than Dan cares to deal with - begs for the ‘good stuff’, the part when the reader and Phil finally get together, the first kiss, the _smut_. 

And he can’t bring himself to write it, in spite of all the other times he’s had no trouble with it, all the other fics he’s managed to write with the most delicious details - he’s stuck at a roadblock. Because that _weight_ hangs over his head, threatening to fall: he may have fucked up, he may have royally screwed over not only Phil and his passion, but an entire fanbase of viewers who might never see the man again.

So he’s convinced himself that maybe, if he can keep his fic light and platonic and _friendly_ right now, the whole thing will blow over. _Just until Phil posts another video,_ he decides. 

Except his story has progressed far beyond most of his usual short fics, totaling twelve chapters and giving every other slow burn x reader he’s ever found a run for its money. When his email dings for the twenty-fifth time, altering him of yet _another_ comment, he almost debates slamming his laptop closed to stare at the ceiling for awhile. Surely that’d be less painful than disappointing his readers _again_.

But then he’d have to think about Phil, and what he may have done to him - _mortified, horrified, embarrassed, unable to show his face in classes because someone read that fic, the one where he’d been flirty and a bit too forward and really it had moved way too fast, but that’s why I’d scrapped it, and-_ he sighs. At least the self-loathing that’ll come along with reading the comment won’t be nearly as harrowing.

He slumps in his chair - _his_ , in his own room, because he’s been terrified to go anywhere near York’s campus for days now - and clicks on the link to the comment. 

_**Anonymous:**  
I really like your writing and this story and your characterization of Phil, which I think is much more accurate than some other fanfictions out there ;)_

Dan leans back, then forward again, squinting at the comment as if it might reveal some secret double-meaning he’s yet to uncover, a subtle criticism or sarcasm he missed the first time. But after the sixth read-through reveals no hidden attack, nor a thinly veiled plea for Phil and the reader to just _fuck_ already, he decides he ought to respond. _Maybe that’ll teach my other readers not to be so demanding..._

_**danisnotonfire:**  
Thank you! :) that’s really kind of you to say, and I’ll admit I agree - I think there are some fics out there that leave something to be desired, and I think Phil has more depth. I’m glad that came across in the story!_

It takes him a good half hour to settle on that, and another five minutes to actually click the comment button, but he’s grinning when he finally does. _At least one person out there appreciates my story, even if it_ is _just a product of Phil’s inactivity and my overwhelming stress about it…_ with a frown, he checks the time - half eleven, far earlier than he’d normally go to bed, but he’s suddenly exhausted. 

When he flops onto his mattress, he’s got a smile on his face, for _once_ not overwhelmingly stressed about AmazingPhil.

\---------------------------------------

Dan wakes to a chiming alarm that demands he get his ass out of bed and over to his only class for the day - at the very least, it’s a Friday, even if that means it’s his _longest_ and possibly most _boring_ class; he’s got a whole weekend ahead of him, one he intends to spend working on his fic - well, working on how best to string out the pining and barely-there flirting a little longer. Which is just as well, as it seems Phil _still_ hasn’t posted a new video. 

Objectively, Dan knows it’s not _immensely_ unusual for him to go a week or more without posting, but fear squirms in his gut because what if the hiatus is _permanent_ this time? What if Phil’s too embarrassed to show his face because rumors have spread about some weirdo writing fanfiction about him, and now he has to leave school and move to Switzerland or something?

With a huff, Dan clicks over to his email tab, already grimacing at the little (27) in the tab title. _Great, more bitching about just wanting some action already..._ as he scans the subjects, though, they’re nearly all anonymous comments, and across several of his fics - some more than once. _What, did someone big go and promo me?_ He can’t imagine it, given how most of the ‘big’ writers don’t even know he exists.

He clicks on the last email first, one from just after midnight last night.

_**Anonymous:**  
Another great one! If every writer were like you, the world of fanfiction would be a much better place ;)_

Dan grins, then types out a brief thanks that doesn’t quite do his gratitude justice but will have to suffice for now - he’s bound to be late to class as is, though he’s immensely tempted to just keep scrolling through his comments. Apparently, this nice person - and it _must_ be them, the same one who’d commented on his current work, since the style matches and they’ve used the winky face - has decided to read another of his fics.

If it were a Wednesday, or a Monday, or literally _any_ other weekday but Friday, Dan would have just enough ‘I can’t handle the bullshit today’ in his system to skip class, but it isn’t and he doesn’t, because he’s got the afternoon free and an entire weekend ahead of him, so he forces himself up and out of his chair and off to his lecture.

A lecture he spends absolutely zero time focusing on, as his mind keeps drifting to what ought to happen next in his story: they’re just at the part where the reader’s arrived to stay at Phil’s house to film the video, after they’ve been talking online for ages - it’s a personal fantasy of his, and this is easily his most self-indulgent story to date - but he’s not sure if he should move on to the classic one-bed trope or stall and save that for later.

It’s times like these that he wonders what the actual Phil would do, not AmazingPhil who flirts with the camera that everyone takes purely at face value and slaps into a short, smutty one-shot. He could write Phil like that - he’s done it before, just once - but he’s enjoying the excuse to watch through some of Phil’s less popular videos, the ones where he just chats about something strange that happened to him that day. Dan finds those to be _much_ more revealing about the real Phil.

He’s still debating the best way to proceed in his story when the sounds of zipping bags and shuffling feet drag him from his head, and he follows suit on autopilot. _Maybe I should just get on with it…_ sure, _one_ reader seems to be fine with the drawn-out slow burn, but the vast majority sure aren’t. 

With a huff, he shoulders his bag and heads for the bus stop, already anxious to get to the library and read through the rest of these comments.

\---------------------------------------

The first few the mysterious reader left seem mostly to be carbon copies of the first two - praise for his characterization of Phil and/or appreciation for Dan’s writing and the story itself. But as the comments approach one in the morning, they turn into replies on the person’s own comments.

_**Anonymous:**  
I know I already said it but I can’t stop rereading this part and I think it’s exactly what Phil would do ;)_

_**Anonymous:**  
It’s really cool you wrote Phil this way, I don’t think many people see past that surface layer he puts on in his videos ;)_

_**Anonymous:**  
Okay last time I promise but this feels so real, are you sure you don’t know Phil in real life?? Just kidding haha ;)_

Then there’s a gap of about an hour, followed by multiple replies on nearly every comment they’d left so far.

_**Anonymous:**  
I totally lied, sorry this must be annoying but I can’t sleep so I hope you don’t mind!_

_**Anonymous:**  
I’m sort of stuck in a rut with my own work right now, I can’t get any ideas and I was hoping for some inspiration_

_**Anonymous:**  
Except now I can’t stop reading and I don’t know if it’s helping me get ideas or not haha_

_**Anonymous:**  
Okay okay I promise this is the last one, I think I have an idea and I hope you don’t mind that your story inspired it!!! Thanks ;)_

True to the person’s word, this comment is the last - there are a handful of others which, as Dan had originally anticipated, complain at him to just get to the good stuff, but he ignores them all in favor of responding just to his anonymous reader.

_**danisnotonfire:**  
No need to apologize! I appreciate all the comments and that you’re enjoying my writing. And I’m glad to have inspired you! Hope whatever you’re working on goes well! Stop by again soon ;)_

He adds the wink with only a bit of trepidation - after all, the mystery reader had used it in most of their comments, surely it’s alright if Dan replies in kind? He hits the comment button before he can change his mind, then pulls up a fresh document to start on his next chapter.

His fingers hover over the keys of his laptop, itching to type _something_ , but he’s stuck. _Well, I guess that reader passed on their creative block..._ he stares at the blank page for what feels like an hour but is probably more like two minutes before deciding that reading his comments was quite a lot of work, and it’d be alright if he takes a break for a bit.

After the fifth refresh of AmazingPhil’s YouTube page yields no new videos, Dan frowns and checks his emails again. As if anyone will have added a comment in the past few minutes, when he hasn’t even posted a new chapter today.

But there’s a little (1), and hope sparks in his chest that maybe, just _maybe_ , it’s the reader he’s suddenly sort of obsessed with. But not _really_ obsessed, just extremely appreciative of - unlike even some of his most dedicated readers, this person has yet to say anything negative. 

Suddenly, though, he’s hesitant to click on the email - what if _this_ comment is critical? What if they’ve just decided Dan’s writing is terrible or out of character or that his other readers are right, he’s taking far too long to arrive at the getting-together bit? His stomach clenches in fear, but now he _has_ to know. 

_**Anonymous:**  
Thanks! It’s actually going very well, although I may have stayed up all night working...whoops! But it’s a good idea, how can I ever repay you!? ;)_

Dan tries, he _really_ does, not to read too much into the winky face in the context of what the person’s just said. And really, _just_ said, not even two minutes ago. But, since the person had offered...

_**danisnotonfire:**  
Actually, I could use someone to bounce ideas off of, do you have a way to message? Tumblr or anything?_

As much as Dan would enjoy seeing the inflation of comments on his fic that an entire conversation would carry, he’d rather not discuss his possible plans for the next chapter where some of his less friendly readers might get to them. He clicks to add the comment, then refreshes the page probably a few too many times as he waits for a response.

It’s not til a separate window dings - tumblr, which he’s had up since yesterday - that he abandons his fic to see who the hell is bothering him _now_. He’d been ecstatic the first time he got a message from a reader, but now it’s just another avenue of attack when they’re dissatisfied with his story. He’d debated shutting down asks and messages altogether, but he’s very suddenly glad he didn’t.

_**amazinqphil:**  
Hope you don’t mind, I guessed this was you?_

Dan has only a very _minor_ heart attack at the name, until he realizes it’s one of those awful accounts that purposely misspelled the url to trick people into thinking it really was _the_ AmazingPhil. 

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_Not at all, thanks!_  
_So uh…you don’t mind listening to a few of my ideas? Not sure where it makes the most sense to go with this next ch and I could use some help_  
_Since it seems like we agree on lots of stuff_  
_For the fic I mean_

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_FIRE away_  
_Haha get it_  
_Because you’re danisnotonFIRE_

It’s stupid, but Dan chuckles at the awful pun anyway. He’s also sort of giddy at having someone to actually _talk to_ about his writing, because he’s always just done his own thing, but this person is at least mildly invested. Or, they’re invested enough to listen. Maybe they just want a sneak peek of what’s to come.

Or maybe they’ll try to talk him into skipping past all the dancing-around-each-other, pining, and flirty banter. _One way to find out, I guess…_

He spends far too long typing and retyping his ideas, worrying about the context and the order and what it might imply if he says one thing versus another, or uses a certain word or _doesn’t_ use that word and _hell_ it’s starting to feel a lot like when he’s writing his actual fics. Finally, though, he settles on something and hits enter, then stares at the chat window until his eyes cross.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_Well those are definitely a lot of ideas, I can see why you’re stuck haha_  
_Is there any one that you’re particularly leaning toward?_

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_Uhhh I sort of feel like I shouldn’t skip straight to the sex_  
_But I also don’t want to disappoint my readers_  
_And that’s what they’re all begging for at this point_  
_So I feel like I have to_

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_It’s your story though, is that what you think Phil would do?_  
_I mean what you think the Phil in your story would do not the actual Phil haha_

Dan’s fingers hover over the keyboard. But hadn’t he been going for the _actual_ Phil? So really, the question is what he thinks the _real_ Phil would do. He has to stifle a laugh - ‘what he thinks the _real_ Phil would do’, as if he and Phil are best friends, as if he’s the reader in his x reader fic, and they’ve been chatting over Skype for ages and Dan really does know all these tiny little things about Phil. As if he could ever presume to _truly_ guess what Phil would do, no matter how much he wishes he had genuine insight into the man’s personality.

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_I guess I would probably draw it out longer_  
_I don’t think Phil would be too forward, I think he would be really cautious and worried about making sure the reader was comfortable_  
_Not going too far too fast_  
_I mean, I think there’s more behind the obvious flirting and stuff in his videos_  
_Idk though what do you think?_

_**amazinqphil:**  
Are you SURE you don’t know Phil in real life?_

Dan stares at the response and waits, expecting...well, maybe an _actual_ response? An actual opinion? Or anything other than this? The words worm through his stomach, tying up in uncomfortable knots. _Is this some kind of weird test?_ He can’t imagine why, though. But amazinqphil hasn’t said anything else yet, and he feels like he has to answer. Or say _something_.

_**danisnotonfire:**  
Haha no I don’t_

He frowns at the chat window, then types out another frantic sentence.

_**danisnotonfire:**  
I sorta live near him though_

As soon as he’s sent it, he regrets it. But there’s no magical delete button, he can’t reverse time, he just has to live with this - he’s kept this a secret for a _reason_ , he can’t handle fans spamming-

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_WAIT WHAT?_  
_YOU DIDN’T SAY YOU LIVED NEAR HIM_  
_OMG WHERE??_

And this is _exactly_ the kind of thing he tried to avoid by _not_ mentioning that little detail. But he’d been caught up in the sudden need to impress this person, and curse his damn fingers for the equivalent of verbal diarrhea. With a sigh, he minimizes the chat window and briefly debates closing tumblr altogether, but maybe keeping it up will motivate him to write, in some strange, twisted way.

 _Of course, the one person I was having a great conversation with, who really_ saw _Phil the way I do, and they’re really just some crazed fan who’s probably more concerned with how I can get Phil to talk to them or if I can take some creepy stalker picture or something..._ he groans at the empty document and mutes his computer, already sick of the intermittent bubble-pop message sounds. 

He stares for a while longer, frustration and disappointment warring in his chest, before he manages to spit out a couple paragraphs of Phil laying it on thick, seducing the reader and ending up in bed with them. It’s nothing risque, not yet, but it’s definitely on the fast track toward it. Dan feels...honestly a bit disgusted with himself, but he’s angry and frustrated and he sort of just wants to spite this person who’d... _it’s a bit overdramatic to say ‘betrayed’, isn’t it?_ But that’s what it feels like, _betrayal_ , and he uses it as a weak fuel to get through one more paragraph before printing it out and catching the bus back home.

\---------------------------------

He’s sadistic, he decides. 

He must be, to read through all the messages this amazinqphil person has sent him since he made the mistake of mentioning his geographical nearness to the real AmazingPhil. But he can’t help it - it’s like poking a bruise just to see if it’ll really hurt, even though he _knows_ it will.

And it does. At first.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_Wait wait for real where?_  
_Sorry that’s weird to ask isn’t it_  
_I didn’t mean to be weird_  
_I just got excited_  
_Are you like...super near him or just like...also in England?_  
_Or like just the same hemisphere?_  
_If it makes you feel better, I’m near him too!_  
_Hello?_  
_Danisnotonfire?_  
_Is it Dan Is Not On Fire?_  
_Or Dani Snot On Fire?_  
_Or Danis Not On Fire?_  
_Sorry, that was just a joke, I promise I’m not trying to be mean!_  
_Or invasive_  
_Sorry!!!_  
_Please don’t hate me_  
_You don’t have to answer where you are_  
_That’s creepy I’m creepy for asking_  
_Sorry_  
_I’ll shut up now_  
_Okay maybe I won’t but just because I want to say sorry again!!!!_  
_Also I really like your writing and I hope you decided on what to do next_  
_Okay now I really will leave you alone sorry!!!_

That’s the last one, though Dan has no clue when it was sent. He scrolls back up through the messages, then back down. With a sigh, he types out a response.

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_I’m sort of near his uni_  
_And it’s dan is not on fire_

He locks his phone and drops it beside his pillow, suddenly too wired to sleep - this person, they live near Phil as well. What if they go to York? Or Bradford? He grins up at his ceiling. _It’d be really nice to meet someone who actually knows who Phil is._ The quirky YouTuber isn’t exactly well-known among his circle of ‘friends’.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_HI! Sorry again, you really didn’t have to answer that!_  
_But that’s so cool! He goes to York, right? Do you go there as well?_  
_So it’s Dan, then? Is it okay if I call you that?_  
_Mostly just in my head, like whenever I think about you_  
_Not in a creepy way! It’s just easier than danisnotonfire!_

_**danisnotonfire:**  
I don’t, a nearby uni actually. And yeah it is Dan. I don’t mind lol_

Objectively, he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t be giving such specifics to a random person on the internet, but it’s not like someone would be able to track him down just based on his first name and the fact that he goes to a uni near York. Besides, he likes this person. Not _likes_ , just likes them as a person. They seem nice, and they seem to have the same point of view on Phil and his personality. 

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_Thanks, Dan! And that’s so cool! What are you studying?_  
_And have you ever met him?_

Dan snorts out a laugh. _I wish_. 

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_Philosophy, but who knows, that might change...what about you? <_  
_If you’re even in school whoops haha_  
_And no, I haven’t, but that would be awesome_  
_Actually, I’d probably freak out_  
_What would I even say?_  
_“Hey, so, my name’s Dan!”_  
_“Also I’ve fantasized about you fucking me into a mattress and wrote about it in extremely graphic detail for other people to read!”_  
_I’m sure that’d go over really well_

There’s no response for long enough that Dan starts to worry, to wonder if he’s taken it too far and made a joke this person isn’t comfortable with. But it’s _true_ , he’s written some pretty intense stuff; when he’d first started hiding out in the York library after his classes, he’d been anxious but ultimately _excited_ for the chance to meet Phil. Now he’s sure he’d just be outright terrified.

He waits a bit longer, then locks his phone and sets it aside to stare up at the ceiling above his bed. Then picks it back up, just to be sure the internet’s working properly. Then closes the app and restarts it, because it’s surely just tumblr acting up, that’s why he’s yet to get a message.

\----------------------------------

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he sure as fuck remembers waking up, because there’s a siren outside his window that apparently doesn’t give a shit that it’s- he fumbles around his bed for a moment, searching for his phone. 

_Nine in the fucking morning._ He grumbles and rolls over to smush his face into his pillow, fully intending just to fall back asleep til noon at least. Then he rolls right the fuck back over and unlocks his phone, because did he see _notifications_ for _messages_ from _someone_ on tumblr?

 _Shit..._ he’d fallen asleep waiting for a reply, and now this person probably thinks he was just ignoring them.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_Philosophy sounds cool! Are you enjoying it? If so, then that’s what you should do._  
_If not, just keep trying new things til you find something you like!_  
_I was studying English but that sort of flopped, hopefully this masters program is more what I wanted to do :) guess we’ll see!_  
_But hey, you never know, if you said that to him, he might be flattered_  
_I know I would be if you said that to me_  
_Oh god that was too much wasn’t it?_  
_Sorry I’m being creepy again, I promise I didn’t mean it like that!!_  
_Unless you wanted me to mean it like that?_  
_Wait no no sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m just making things twelve times worse SORRY!!!_  
_Just like. If he read what you wrote, and saw himself the way you do, I think he’d probably be flattered_  
_I don’t know how he’d react to the uh, the other part_  
_Probably be really awkward about it haha_  
_Dan?_  
_Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that!!! Ugh I swear my mum always says I’ve got a foot in my mouth all the time_  
_I always say things all wrong_  
_Please don’t hate me!_  
_Sorry I’ll leave you alone now_  
_Oh also it’s like...super late haha maybe that’s why you’re not responding_  
_I should not be allowed sugar after midnight!!!!_  
_I hope you don’t hate me_  
_Good night, Dan!_

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until his lungs start to ache, at which point he remembers to inhale, then stares at his phone screen for another few seconds. _What...what?_ Dan’s not even sure where to start, except there’s a goofy grin on his face and his heart feels weird and light, so he does what he does best: avoids thinking about it altogether.

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_Hey sorry fell asleep!_  
_Sugar after midnight...probably not the best idea but I didn’t mind :)_  
_You never gave your opinion though, what do you think I should write?_  
_Wanted to post another chapter soon_  
_But I’d really like to hear your thoughts?_  
_I mean if you still want to help, you totally don’t have to haha_

He’s absolutely _not_ crushing on a random internet person, he’s _not_ suddenly desperate for their approval, and he’s certainly _not_ about to get his ass out of bed at nine in the damn morning to write more of this fic. 

Except he is, and he does, and he _still_ can’t get the ghost of a smile off his lips when amazinqphil responds nearly an hour later. 

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_Ahhh now I was the one asleep!_  
_I think you should write what you think Phil would do_  
_I’m sure it’ll be great ;)_

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_Already way ahead of you ;)_  
_I think Phil would definitely put the reader first and try to figure out what they wanted before making any moves_

Somehow, he’s pretty sure he can guess amazinqphil’s approval before it comes. It doesn’t stop his grin from spreading, though.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_:) that’s perfect! Totally what the real Phil would do_  
_Er, the real Phil in your story_  
_Maybe the real real Phil too!_  
_Not that I’d know_

_**danisnotonfire:**  
You said you live nearby as well, you sure YOU’VE never met him? ;)_

Dan’s curiosity overwhelms him long enough to set his writing aside - there are almost enough words to post it as a new chapter, although he doubts his readers will appreciate even _more_ stalling. _But this person will. And I will_. He’s seriously invested, now, in the plot behind this one - it feels real, or like it could be real, and he wants it to stay that way. He pulls up one of Phil’s older videos, just to listen to as he waits for amazinqphil’s response. It takes a lot longer than Dan anticipated, and he’s already onto another video by the time the message pops up.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_Oh yeah, I go to York as well_  
_I’ve seen him around a couple times_  
_Never met him though!_

Dan’s eyes widen. So this person’s seen _the_ AmazingPhil, and somehow that hadn’t been a point of conversation at all up til now? Dan sort of realizes he’s turning into the same fangirl he’d been afraid would bother _him_ if he revealed any connection to Phil, but...

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_You’ve SEEN him in PERSON?_  
_Why have you not mentioned this????_  
_Does he look the same? Does his hair really look as good as it does in videos?_  
_Oh my god I don’t even know what to fucking ASK about him but SHIT_  
_Where did you see him?_

All of Dan’s previous obsessive-but-not- _obsessive_ impulses come surging up to the surface. Before he can think twice, he’s heading out the door, laptop in hand, booking it toward the bus stop. Maybe he can find out where this person’s seen Phil before, and he’ll have better luck than when he’s just sitting around at the library all day.

It’s not til he’s tucked away in his corner of the York library that he gets a response, in spite of the fact that he’s checked his phone every other minute since he left his room.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it! It was just a couple times on campus_  
_Probably walking to class or something haha_

_**danisnotonfire:**_  
_Well I guess that explains why I never see him_  
_I just sit around the library and hope he’ll show up. I’m such a loser haha_  
_And apparently the most unlucky person in the world_

Dan taps his foot on the floor, wondering if he should try to walk around campus instead - but he’s got no idea where to even begin; he feels like he had during his first few weeks in the library, overwhelmed with the desire to actually meet Phil, or at least just _see_ him, but...exercise might be where he draws the line. If he had more specifics, it could be worth it, but aimlessly wandering unfamiliar streets and buildings does not sound like a good enough plan to warrant leaving the comfort of his corner.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_The campus library?_  
_Are you there right now?_

Dan’s heart skips a beat - this person goes to York, what if they’re nearby? What if they want to pop in and say hello? Nerves spark across Dan’s skin, and butterflies make a home in his chest. _Shit,_ he is not at all ready to actually _meet_ this person, is he?

_**danisnotonfire:**  
Yes_

He hits send before he can change his mind. Then holds his breath for so long his vision starts blurring. _Oh my god please respond, this is terrifying._ As the minutes pass, panic and excitement pull him deeper, and he’s back to where he was so many months ago, peeking over the top of his laptop to glance at the entrance every thirty seconds, waiting for someone to come in. 

Except this time, he has no idea what to look for - he knows Phil like the back of his hand, probably better, but this mystery person could literally be _anyone_. When his laptop dings, he nearly has a heart attack.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_I probably should’ve asked first, but I’m already here…_  
_Is it okay if I come in? And say hi in person?_  
_You can say no!!! I won’t be mad, I promise!!_

Dan stares at the chat window, then back at the entrance, squinting to try to see out the tinted glass doors. But there’s nobody outside, not in view anyway, and he slumps back in his chair; so what _does_ he want? He almost lets out a laugh - of course, he already knows the answer.

_**danisnotonfire:**  
Yeah, I’m sat at the table by the horror section, I’m the only one here_

Dan hits send with far less hesitation than he expected, but his fingers shake as they tap a nervous rhythm on the wood surface. Then they’re combing through his hair, and he’s wishing he had a mirror - it’d be just his luck to meet this person looking like a total mess. He can’t help but glance up toward the doors, his heart stuttering when a figure appears and pushes inside.

But they don’t look at him, just go straight to see Susan at the desk, who directs them down a set of aisles toward the other entrance. Dan follows their progress, and _that’s_ when he has a proper heart attack: someone else is walking in the other direction, pausing to glance at a few of the section labels as he makes his way through the library.

Someone with bright blue eyes and black emo hair and a nervous smile he’d recognize anywhere because _nobody_ does that little biting-his-tongue thing except Phil. Dan sucks in a breath and turns to stare hard at his laptop screen, slouching down in his chair; if he’d been anxious a few minutes ago, he’s completely keyed up now, chewing on his lip as he waits for the man to pass.

Because even though he wants to, he literally _can’t_ bring himself to say anything. He’s frozen, paralyzed, barely daring to peek out of the corner of his eye to watch Phil’s progress. Which, he realizes belatedly, is a _huge_ mistake - Phil’s walking _toward_ him now. _Of course, I had to decide to sit right in front of the horror section, didn’t I? Oh god what do I say? I shouldn’t say_ anything _, right? That’d be weird if I said something, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered-_

He can’t help it, though, he has to look up, because _the_ AmazingPhil stops beside him, that adorable smile brightening into a huge grin as they lock eyes. 

“Hi, Dan.”


	2. AmazingPhil

“Dan?” He’s still just staring, wide-eyed, at Phil; Phil can’t help but worry, what if Dan’s mad? He _did_ have plenty of opportunities to reveal- _to reveal who I am, not to ‘reveal myself’!_ He scolds his brain for going in all the wrong directions.

But Dan’s _pretty_ , Phil sort of can’t help it. 

The pretty boy in question finally stops his gaping to fold his arms on the table and drop his head onto them; Phil takes a tentative step forward - _shit, I really should’ve said something sooner, I should’ve-_

“You _have_ to be fucking with me.” Dan finally speaks after what feels like ages, though the words come out muffled. 

“I’m...I’m not?” Phil tries, because what else is he supposed to do? _Oh, right, apologize!_ “I’m sorry! I should’ve told you, I just didn’t want, uh…” he trails off. He didn’t want _what?_ He can’t think of anything that he didn’t want. That he _doesn’t_ want. Hell, he wants every word of every single one of Dan’s fanfictions.

And he’s absolutely _not_ going to say that.

“What, didn’t want me just fangirling all over you?” Dan grumbles, still to the table. Phil shifts on his feet, feeling exceptionally awkward. There’s another chair, but would Dan even want Phil to join him? He seems...less than pleased at this turn of events.

To be fair, _Phil_ had originally been less than pleased when he found Dan’s unpublished chapter sat on the printer - he’d accidentally grabbed it along with his term paper, the one he’d had to rush to the library last minute to print because the ancient printer in his house had finally died.

Phil knows, of course, that there’s plenty of fanfiction about him out there - he doesn’t even _mind_ all that much - but finding it in _York’s_ library, knowing the author could be someone he sees _every day_? That had been...uncomfortable. So, like any good uni student, he’d taken to the internet to figure out his problem: who, exactly, was this writer?

After some googling, he’d found the opening few lines, though the rest of the chapter didn’t match the draft at all. He much preferred the chapter the author had chosen to post. Apparently, a lot of the other readers didn’t, but it was the first story Phil’d ever read about himself that actually felt like it was about _him_ \- not that he read _many_ of his viewers’ fantasies, but this one felt different. Like the author saw past this AmazingPhil persona he put on for the camera, the role he fell into whenever he pressed the record button.

He was, admittedly, glad that the story hadn’t taken an immediate turn to the bedroom.

Well, it _had_ , as he later found out, but not for the reasons he’d anticipated. Apparently, he and the reader - in his case, himself, which felt a bit strange, but he ended up enthralled by the story itself - were going to film a Q&A video with random questions submitted by his viewers.

And Phil loved the concept - as he’d said to Dan, he was stuck, unable to come up with something clever or creative for his next video. And Dan’s story had been inspirational, to say the least.

Phil finally manages to blink, to twist his lips at the person who’d actually _come up with_ that idea, and take another step forward.

“I just didn’t want to scare you,” Phil admits, which is absolutely true - he’s had a few fans freak out when they met him, and he’s not sure how Dan would’ve reacted to having a real conversation with him. Although, based on the fact that Dan’s still not raised his head from the table, Phil’s beginning to think he’s definitely freaking out.

“You did a pretty shit job of that, didn’t you?” Dan confirms, although there’s not much bite in his tone, more just a light, airy almost-laughter. “Jesus christ, you’re-” he cuts himself off mid-sentence, finally peeking up from the crook of his elbow to squint at Phil. “Why on _earth_ are you reading my fanfictions?”

Phil freezes - this is the _exact_ question he’d been hoping to avoid for at least...well, _forever_ , at a minimum. Maybe longer. He can feel worms in his stomach, squirming and squiggling around and doing nothing to help him come up with a good response.

“Well?” Now Dan lifts his head properly, leaning heavily on his elbows. His eyebrows have arched up his forehead, making adorable little crinkles appear in the space not covered by the wavy brown fringe that falls haphazardly to one side. It’s messy and fluffy in a way that makes Phil want to run his fingers through it, because _surely_ it’s not as soft as it looks.

“ _The_ AmazingPhil, reading fanfiction about himself,” Dan coughs out a low laugh as his whole face relaxes, then he leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Bit egotistical, isn’t it?” He quirks a brow. Phil’s not entirely sure where this teasing confidence came from, but he’s tempted to smack Dan’s arm and tell him _it’s not like that!_

“I don’t- I mean, not like...I don’t read them!” Phil somehow settles on _that_ , which is totally untrue, and Dan’s just grinning, clearly not believing a word. “I _don’t_!” He argues. Dan huffs out a laugh and smirks. “Just yours!” Phil finally blurts out, then clamps a hand over his mouth because _I did_ not _just say that, please tell me I didn’t say that out loud!_

Dan’s eyes go wide and his lips part like he’d tried to say something in response but all the words got stuck; he ends up turning a bright shade of pink and dropping his gaze. Then he’s turned to focus on his laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe, though he doesn’t bother clicking or scrolling or doing much of anything. 

“ _Oh_.” It sounds more like a breath, so quiet Phil can’t even be sure he heard it, but there’s a tiny indent in Dan’s cheek that looks a lot like a dimple; even when he presses his lips into a line, it doesn’t disappear. “Why?” Now he turns just enough so he can peek at Phil from the corner of his eye, brows scrunched - or so Phil assumes, he can sort of only see half his face. 

Now it’s Phil’s turn to blush - _because I found your draft on the printer and it freaked me out so I had to find out who you were? Except then I sort of liked your story, so I read more, and then read some of your others when I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t think of any new ideas, and I maybe kinda fell in love with how you see me?_

“I found your story on the printer the other day,” Phil starts, and the rest of the words bubble up in his chest. Maybe if he was still ‘amazinqphil’ instead of himself, he might say them. He _did_ say some of them, sort of. Just not in person. In person is a lot harder. He swallows thickly - he’s not brave, and the words slide right back down his throat.

“Thought I’d try to figure out who was writing about me.” He finishes with a lame shrug, but something he said must’ve caught Dan’s attention, because wide brown eyes have laser-focused on him. Then they disappear as Dan squeezes them shut and tilts his head back.

“Of _course_ , I _knew_ someone would end up finding it, I just didn’t think-” He squints an eye open at Phil. “Of all the people, it had to be you, didn’t it?” He groans and leans back in his chair again. Phil’s just opening his mouth to ask when a hand taps his shoulder and makes him jump.

“Hello, dears- oh, Phil!” Susan grins and pats his arm. “Nice to see you back so soon, did that Stephen King work out? If not, I have quite the list of recommendations,” she titters out a laugh, and Phil offers a confused nod - his brain has yet to catch up to the sudden shift in conversation.

“Lovely. Well, boys, I just wanted to stop by and ask if you’d mind keeping your voices down a bit? Library and all,” she grins at them both, a close-mouthed smile that still manages to light up her eyes. Phil nods again, then looks over to find Dan nodding as well.

“Of course, sorry!” Phil adds for good measure, and Susan pats his arm once more before heading back to the reception desk. Neither he nor Dan speaks until she’s back to squinting at her computer screen over thick-framed glasses.

Just as Phil’s about to go sit in the empty chair so they can talk more quietly, Dan stands in a rush.

“Sorry!” He whispers. “This was...I mean, _christ_ , this is weird of me, you probably think I’m such a creepy person, practically...I don’t know, _stalking_ you, god,” he’s talking mostly to himself, Phil thinks, as he sort of waves his hands around before closing his laptop and tucking it under his arm. “I should, uh, leave you be?” He takes a step forward, and Phil steps back on instinct.

“Sorry,” Dan mumbles again as he rushes past him and toward the entrance. Phil doesn’t even have enough time to think, let alone respond, before Dan’s out the door.

Phil debates following, he really _really_ does, but what would he even say? _Please come back, I really like talking to you? Why are you the only person who sees me for me? You’re too pretty for your own good?_ But Dan wouldn’t want him to say any of that, would he? That’d be too forward, he’d probably prefer Phil to act the way he wrote about him: slow, careful, gentle. He wouldn’t want this brash, impulsive guy who can barely control his words, let alone his actions - especially not when he’s such a nervous wreck. 

\-------------------------------

Four hours later, when Phil’s decided it’s been long enough - actually, he’d told himself a _day_ originally, but he’s never been great at waiting - he pulls up tumblr on his laptop. Then triple-checks that his door is closed and locked. His housemates can be a bit...invasive. Once he’s sat back down, he stares at the chat window for what feels like ages, trying to come up with exactly the right thing to say. 

Because he’d spent those four hours poring over all the fanfiction Dan’s written, trying to get a sense for what, exactly, Dan thinks of him. Sure, he had an idea, he felt _known_ in a way that other authors had failed to replicate, but now he’s digging for every detail, every clue that might get him one step closer to Dan.

Phil _likes_ him, and he knows how silly it sounds to like someone after just a few days, but he does. And he really doesn’t want to mess it up.

_**amazinqphil:**_  
_You didn’t have to leave earlier! I promise I wasn’t bothered_   
_I didn’t think you were fangirling or anything_

He stares at the screen for a while, until he’s pretty sure the blue background looks more purple than blue, then he’s _certain_ it’s just the same shade of deep green you see when you’re staring at a tree at night. Then it’s blue again, because a message has popped up.

_**danisnotonfire:**_   
_Why are you even bothering with the side account? I know it’s you_   
_I just didn’t want to be...THAT fan, I guess_   
_Creep you out or whatever_   
_Like, it didn’t seem creepy til I was sat there trying to justify why on earth I was sat there…_   
_And now I’m being too talkative. You don’t have to talk to me just to humor me, it’s fine_

Phil huffs out a laugh, already three words into his sentence when he gets the last message. He deletes it all and starts again.

_**amazinqphil:**_   
_I messaged you, remember? I actually like you_   
_Talking to you! You’re interesting!_

He hesitates for a moment, then frantically types out one more message and hits send before he can stop himself. _It’s just to test the waters, see what he thinks, what he wants._

_**amazinqphil** :_   
_I wish you hadn’t left so quick :)_

And then he’s holding his breath, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And eventually he has to exhale and suck in a fresh breath, but then he’s back at it. Anticipatory moments demand breaths being held, everyone knows that.

_**danisnotonfire:** _   
_Oh haha I would’ve stayed, I just didn’t want to like...be weird or anything_   
_And I had to catch the bus anyway, or the next one wouldn’t have been for another hour_

Hope crashes in Phil’s chest; of _course_ Dan wouldn’t have wanted to spend a whole hour with him. Phil clearly isn’t living up to Dan’s fantasies in the slightest.

_**danisnotonfire:** _   
_But it was really really cool to meet you :)_   
_Even under such mortifying circumstances…_

_**amazinqphil:** _   
_I’m so sorry about that! I should’ve said who I was first…_   
_Please forgive me? :)_   
_There’s sweets in it for you if you do ;)_

Phil figures there’s no harm in the winky face after talking about sweets, it’s not like he’d been vague and said there was ‘something’ in it for Dan if he forgave him. Because _that_ would be too forward, and Phil isn’t going to do that, he’s going to try to be everything Dan’s hoping for. 

_**danisnotonfire:** _   
_I may have to consider your proposition…_   
_But that’s a bold promise to make when you’re hiding behind the internet_   
_Last I checked, you can’t attach sweets to an email ;)_

Phil sucks in a breath. He’s not sure he’s blinked since Dan started responding, so he does it a couple times just to be sure his eyeballs don’t fall out.

_**amazinqphil:** _   
_Guess I’ll just have to give them to you in person then!_   
_But only if you forgive me :)_

_**danisnotonfire:** _   
_Given I wasn’t even mortified by YOU, I’ll have to say I forgive you_   
_Now I expect a five kilo bag of sour strawberry laces hand-delivered to my front door by tomorrow ;)_

Phil grins at his screen. _Yeah, sour strawberry laces fit Dan’s personality perfectly, sour at first but sweet once you get past the tart bit._ Briefly, Phil wonders what _he’d_ be as a sweet. He thinks he’d classify himself as a jawbreaker, probably - an overpowering amount of sugar, a lot more than most people can handle, and so many layers you can’t even begin to count. Enough that people are usually sick of him by the time they get past the third layer. Phil’s not sure anyone’s ever made it to the center, seen him for who he really is. Except maybe Dan.

_**danisnotonfire:** _   
_I’m joking, you don’t have to give me five kilos of sweets, that’d send me into a sugar coma_   
_One kilo should do just fine ;)_

Then Phil’s right back to grinning.

_**amazinqphil:** _   
_I would, but I don’t even know where you are!_   
_You ran away, remember? :(_

_**danisnotonfire:** _   
_You’re actually serious?_

Phil’s never been on a rollercoaster quite like this before, and he can’t decide if he likes it or not. Right now, he’s pretty sure he hates it. He’s about to type a response - another apology seems appropriate - when the swoosh of a new message makes his fingers pause over the keyboard.

_**danisnotonfire:** _   
_I have to finish this essay on the philosophy of life after death_   
_Pretty edgy but awesome, I can’t believe I’m actually ENJOYING writing a paper_   
_But maybe tomorrow? I can meet you at the library?_

Nope, Phil thinks he’s never been on a better ride in his entire life. He could ride Dan- _no, not what I meant! I mean, I_ could _, I would_ like _to, but..._ Phil allows himself all of three seconds to think back to Dan’s other fanfictions, where things had moved a bit quicker, where they’d done all sorts of things that had been weird to read at first but now he can’t help but imagine _Dan_ as the reader, and-

 _Okay, intermission over, back to reality!_ Phil squeezes his eyes until he sees stars, then opens them to try to focus on the conversation.

_**amazinqphil:** _   
_I’m not surprised you enjoy writing about PHILosophy ;)_

He can’t help it, he just hopes that’s something the Phil in Dan’s story would do.

_**amazinqphil:** _   
_How about noon?_   
_Could I get your number?_   
_In case you get lost!_   
_Not that you’d get lost, that’s more likely to be me!_   
_But if we can’t find each other?_   
_It’s okay if you say no!_   
_Chatting here would be fine too :)_

Phil groans at the number of messages he’s sent and drops his head into his hands; honestly, he can’t believe he’s able to trip over his tongue even when he’s not actually _speaking_. But then there’s a swoosh and a phone number and it takes his giddy hands far too long to save the new contact.

_**Phil:** _   
_Hi! It’s Phil :)_

_**Dan:** _   
_Hi, it’s Dan :)_   
_Which you probably already know_   
_I’m a genius_   
_So noon tomorrow? Library?_

_**Phil:** _   
_Yeah! If that still works for you?_

_**Dan:** _   
_Since ten seconds ago? Yeah, that still works ;)_

Phil stares at the message for far too long, grinning until his cheeks hurt and he remembers he has to set himself an alarm so he can wake up on time - he’s got to head to the store in the morning to get some sour strawberry laces.

\-------------------------

It’s three minutes past, and Dan’s late. _Or maybe he just isn’t showing up..._ Phil’s been here since a quarter til - because he’d been far too anxious and excited - with a bag full of sweets and some popcorn as well. And he has an idea.

He’s been stood inside, glancing between the two entrances, but now he’s wondering if he shouldn’t have waited _outside_ instead - what if Dan didn’t think to come in? _But then how will I see if he’s at the opposite entrance?_ He frowns at nobody in particular, then takes a hesitant step toward the doors he came in. Then pauses, because hadn’t Dan left through the _other_ doors yesterday?

Just as he’s turning, he notices Dan make his way past the reception desk and give Susan a nod; then he’s glancing around the library, clearly searching for Phil, and they lock eyes a moment later. Phil tries to quiet the butterflies in his chest, but they fight their way out in the form of a grin that gets extremely close to a giggle. _He actually showed up!_

And then Dan’s smiling as well, probably a little less enthusiastically than Phil, but Phil’s enthusiasm is definitely impossible to beat right now. 

“Hey.” Dan says it with a layer of apprehension, and it immediately puts Phil in a tailspin - did he do something wrong, or say something wrong? _Not_ say something? “Sorry I’m late, I forgot the bus on Sundays has a different schedule.” He’s dropped his gaze to the floor now, and everything feels thick and off-kilter.

“It’s alright!” Phil hopes his tone carries them back into lighter waters, but it’s hard to say - Dan glances back up at least, but his smile-turned-half-smile still feels uncomfortable. Phil sticks his arm out, bag swinging in his hand. “As promised.” His mood lightens the moment Dan’s lips tug up into a proper grin, and he gets to see that dimple again.

“Jesus christ, Phil, did you rob an entire candy store? You really didn’t have to get _five kilos_ ,” he laughs through the whole thing, though, as he digs through the various sweets. “And popcorn as well? Truly, Lester, you’re spoiling me,” he puts a hand over his chest, clearly for dramatics, but Phil’s heart skips a beat at the way Dan says his name. Even though he’s heard it said by a hundred teachers and ‘buddies’ before. Maybe just because it’s _Dan_.

“Yeah,” Phil tries for a laugh that gets stuck in his throat. “I thought, uh, maybe you could come back to my place?” _Oh my god, I sound like I’m giving him a chat up line, this is awful!_ “Not like that!” He clarifies when Dan’s eyes widen, fixing him with a look he can’t even begin to decipher. “I just- uh, let me explain?” Dan waves his hand, the universal gesture for ‘get on with it and stop acting like a complete bumbling fool’.

“Right,” Phil starts over, feeling even more awkward than before, if that’s possible. _Just imagine you’re in your room, on camera, nobody’s watching, Dan’s not watching…_ “So I was sat on my laptop, and you know I said I was having trouble coming up with a new video idea? Well, I mean, that’s not _technically_ what I said, but-”

“I get it, Phil,” Dan’s grinning in spite of the interruption, a sort of smirk that only looks better when he crosses his arms and tilts his head. The swinging of the bag in his hand distracts Phil for a moment.

“Right, okay, so I was thinking _what if_ , like what if I did, uh,” but Dan’s looking too good, _tempting_ in a way that Phil would normally give into if he were a sweet or a new jumper but he’s _Dan_ and he can’t just _do_ that. He’s entirely lost his train of thought, though, and he can’t seem to pick it back up. _Dan, tasty, jumper, wait wait no, hold on, my video-_ “Your idea!” He finally shouts, loud enough that someone nearby shushes him. He clamps a hand over his mouth.

Dan’s just staring, lips parted slightly.

“You actually want to use _my_ idea? That’s what you meant the other day?” Phil’s surprised Dan managed to follow that, because even _he_ had some trouble, and it’s his own brain. He nods, although he can’t tell if Dan’s as excited as he is.

“I mean, if that’s alright?” He finally drops his hand, but lowers his voice to a whisper to make up for his earlier outburst. “It’s your idea, we don’t have to-”

“Wait, _we_?” Now Dan’s eyes have gone wide, and his arms drop to his sides. Then he’s glancing at the floor, chewing on his lip.

“I mean, you don’t have to! I just thought, like, if you wanted, since it _is_ your idea, and…” Phil takes a deep breath, trying to stop himself before he goes down a rabbit hole. “You can say no. Don’t feel like you have to say yes just because I asked.” He’s drawing on Dan’s fanfiction now - he doesn’t at all want to make him uncomfortable, except that he _really_ wants this. But he wants _Dan_ , so if that means he can’t have both, then he’d rather keep Dan. “I could always do the video with someone else, I-”

“I’ll do it,” Dan says, cutting Phil off. He looks up with a sharp gaze but a tentative smile that contrasts in a way Phil can’t quite figure out. _Dan, all contrasts, sour and sweet, sharp but tentative..._ he likes it. A lot.

“Well, seeing as it’s, uh, been a while…” Phil trails off - it’s his own fault, really, but none of his ideas for a new video had really spoken to him until this one. And even then, it was a matter of trying to decide _who_ to do it with. And it was his very-late-last-night idea to ask _Dan_. After all, that’d only be fair.

“You want to go film it, like, _now_?” Dan’s eyes go wide, then drop to the floor as he runs a hand through his hair. Then pats the fluffy curls. “I mean, I didn’t exactly dress for-” he stops mid-sentence and takes a deep breath, then his parted lips curl up in a nervous grin. “ _Fuck_ , okay, fine, let’s,” he ends his sentence with an arm wave, a silent request for Phil to lead the way. Phil spends exactly one second too long staring at the way Dan bites his lip. He’d like to taste those lips himself. He wonders if they’d be sweet or sour.

Then he’s off toward the doors, crinkly plastic of the swinging bag in Dan’s hand the only indication he’s following.

\---------------------------

 _Sour,_ Phil thinks as he watches Dan bite into another strawberry lace - his fifth, but the way the tart sugar crystals cling to his lips, Phil’s sure he’d get more of the sourness than the sweet sugary aftertaste. Or maybe he could have both, if Dan opened his mouth, let Phil’s tongue explore inside.

“So, what, I just read off the questions and you answer, then?” Dan’s voice makes him blink, refocus on the task at hand. _Right, the video. My next video._ Our _video._ He grins.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” he shuffles closer to Dan, since they’re both sat on the floor, and tugs his laptop over. “I sort of, uh, sent out a tweet this morning.” Phil peeks at him from the corner of his eye, but Dan doesn’t look away from the screen. Phil doesn’t realize he’s just been staring at Dan, outright _properly_ staring, until Dan’s hand pushes his aside to take control of the trackpad and scroll further down on the replies.

“Anything I want?” Dan turns, finally, and Phil clears his throat. No use in pretending he’d actually been reading the tweets, he supposes.

“Yeah, whatever you want,” Phil responds, deeply aware of the meaning he puts behind the words, even though Dan wouldn’t know, _couldn’t_ know. Doesn’t need to know.

“Okay, okay, do you have like...a pen? And some paper?” Dan returns to scrolling as he speaks, then uses his opposite hand to stick another sour strawberry lace in his mouth. Phil’s momentarily distracted by the way it dangles from his lips, and he wonders if Dan turned a bit, just so, if they could reenact Lady and the Tramp but with sweets instead of spaghetti. 

Then he’s up and rushing out of the room, too distracted by trying to put some distance between himself and Dan’s lips to properly respond. 

Fortunately, the dead printer still holds some very functional A4 sheets, so he grabs one and a spare pen lying around and heads back to his room. As he always does when filming, he makes sure to double-check the lock before rejoining Dan on the floor.

“Locking the door? How do your housemates not think you’re filming porn?” Dan quirks a brow at him as returns to sit beside him, resulting in Phil letting out a very awkward breathy laugh because the air all whooshes out of his lungs once he hits the floor. 

“They _do_ , even though I tried to explain it’s just YouTube. And they’ve actually _seen_ the videos.” Dan huffs out a disbelieving chuckle, but takes the pen and paper from Phil and scribbles down a couple of the questions he clearly already picked out - it seems the strawberry laces are forgotten for the time being, which is just as well, as Phil’s found a new point of focus while he waits.

Dan’s hands. Particularly the one writing; he doesn’t have many left-handed friends. Phil’s fascinated with the way Dan’s fingers grip the pen, and he follows the tip as it moves across the paper - not that he can read a word Dan’s written in what Phil’s decided is _endearingly_ messy handwriting; he can’t take his eyes off Dan’s hand for nearly two sentences, or questions, or whatever Dan’s onto writing now. It doesn’t matter. 

Then Phil’s gaze drifts down to the hand holding the page, laid out flat over the edge of his laptop, the only hard surface apart from his desk. Dan slides the paper over, searching for new space to write, and Phil watches his tendons shift with the small but precise adjustments. Phil thinks Dan’s hands look _soft_ , gentle and smooth, and he wonders what they’d feel like cupping his cheek. How it’d feel to have those long, slender fingers sliding down his neck, taking a detour to his shoulder, then back to trail across his chest.

“No, Phil, you can’t look!” Dan shouts, and Phil sucks in a breath - _it was just his hands! Surely that’s alright?_ But Dan’s sliding the paper away, covering his words with those hands, and it finally clicks.

“Sorry, sorry, I won’t look!” Phil shifts back, away from Dan, even though he’d much prefer the almost-closeness they’d been sitting in a moment ago. “I’ll even close my eyes,” he promises at Dan’s disbelieving squint. Then he blocks him out entirely, using one hand to cover his eyes and the other to lean on. “Not like I could read your writing anyway,” he adds with a smirk - he’s feeling brave, now that he doesn’t have to watch Dan’s reactions; it feels like he’s back sitting in front of his laptop, pretending to be amazinqphil.

Of course, he doesn’t see the smack coming - Dan hits him in the chest, hard enough to make him yelp but not so hard it actually _hurts_. More just surprises him. Dan’s laughter echoes around the room in a way he’s sure it shouldn’t, a way that’s too lovely and persistent to be real.

“It’s not that bad,” Dan mumbles after he seems to have settled down; Phil’s not sure whether he’s referring to the smack or his handwriting, but he doesn’t much care. He’s too busy wishing his brain had a proper hard drive, so he could record that laugh and save it to play on repeat whenever he misses it. Because surely Dan can’t be laughing _all_ the time, so Phil will definitely miss it.

And then it’s been too long, and Phil’s not sure what to say, so they sit in silence - and darkness, for Phil - for a while, the only real sound the scratching of pen on paper as Dan chooses the rest of his questions. Then the scratching starts to get loud, like _really_ loud, and Phil’s minimal amount of patience runs out.

“Come _on_ , Dan, are you finished yet?” He realizes he sounds a bit whiny, and Dan’s fanfiction Phil would probably _not_ sound so whiny, but the words are in the air already and he can’t take them back. 

“Not yet, you- here,” the scratching finally stops, only to be replaced by a plasticky crinkling Phil would recognize anywhere. “Open,” Dan says, and his voice is far closer than it was a moment ago. Phil opens his mouth, already watering at the thought of whatever sweet Dan’s chosen for him. 

The second they land on his tongue, he can’t help but grin - jelly babies, Phil’s favorite. He chews as he smiles, unable to stop doing one thing to finish doing the other. The scratching of pen on paper returns, but it’s drowned out by the sound of Phil devouring his sweets. Until he swallows, and then it isn’t.

“ _Dan_ ,” Phil pouts at the lack of sugar, but the only response he gets is a soft laugh he’s not even sure he heard, followed by more crinkling. He opens his mouth without being asked and is rewarded with more jelly babies. “Thankmf!” He mumbles around the sweets, back to smiling. He has the fleeting thought that Dan must think him childish or immature, but he’s quite enjoying himself and he doesn’t want to fill his brain with worrying just yet. He can do that later, when Dan’s not around to feed him candy and film a video with him.

This time, when Phil’s swallowed, he doesn’t even have to ask - there’s crinkling, then he’s opened his mouth wide, and he can feel the warmth of a hand close to his chin just before more sugar finds its way to his tongue. As Dan’s hand retreats, Phil _swears_ there’s a moment where fingers brush across his lips, but surely not. Surely that’s just the sugar and excitement and adrenaline playing tricks on him.

But the moment’s passed and the scratching returns - more intermittent, now - and Phil remembers to breathe. Barely. _No, there’s no way Dan touched my lips, at least not on purpose...I probably just imagined it._ It doesn’t stop Phil from swallowing the jelly babies far too soon, heart racing the moment the writing stops and the crinkling of plastic begins.

 _He definitely did it this time,_ Phil decides, barely tasting the sugar as he chews. All he can taste is the lingering trace of sour on his bottom lip that he’s _sure_ came from Dan’s finger, from whatever bits of crystallized sour sugar remained from his earlier strawberry laces.

And then he gets an idea, one that’s _so_ horrible it could only really work in fanfiction, but that’s what Dan does, right? 

“I’m putting my hand down, my arm’s tired,” Phil grumbles, and Dan makes a squeak of protest. “Eyes are still closed!” He announces before Dan can complain. And just as promised, he keeps his eyes squeezed shut, but lowers his hand to rest in his lap. 

“ _Fine_ ,” Dan says, and Phil can practically _hear_ the eye-roll, even if he can’t see it.

And then he enacts his plan - which starts with squinting his eyes open just a _tiny_ bit. _Perfect!_ Dan’s focused entirely on the laptop, only glancing between the screen and the paper to write down another question. The page looks to be almost full, so he squeezes his eyes shut again and makes a whiny sound.

“ _Dan_ , more please?” He pouts for the added effect, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he hears crinkling; Phil takes a deep breath, channeling fanfiction-Phil as much as he can, although he’s a little worried this might be _too_ flirty. But he’s never been patient, and he _has_ to know how Dan feels. Except that asking outright would be...that’d be way too hard.

So he waits, eyes closed, until he can practically _feel_ Dan’s presence in front of him.

“Open,” Dan orders, and Phil obliges, but not with his mouth - he opens his eyes instead, and Dan looks about a second away from ‘that’s not what I meant’, brows scrunched and lips turned down, so Phil obliges and opens his mouth as well. And stares into Dan’s wide eyes, waiting.

He watches as Dan swallows, and he’s tempted to follow the movement from his throat down to where his skin disappears under the collar of his shirt, but then Dan’s hand moves closer, and Phil stays focused on his deep brown eyes. This time, he feeds Phil the jelly babies one at a time, and the brush of a finger on Phil’s lip becomes a lingering touch, then a slow tracing across and to his cheek, then his jaw and down his neck.

Dan’s eyes follow his fingers, and Phil sucks in a breath. He suddenly can’t even think _why_ he cared so much about the sugar in his mouth when Dan is _right there_ , doing _that_ to him; he chews and swallows as quickly as he can without choking.

Dan pauses, then, fingers hovering over the fabric of Phil’s shirt, and looks up. Phil’s not even sure he’s breathing anymore, or maybe he’s breathing in laughing gas, because everything feels light and floaty and he doesn’t think any of this is real - Dan’s leaning closer, or maybe Phil is, but it doesn’t matter because they’re so close that Phil can smell the sugar on Dan’s breath; he only lets his eyes leave Dan’s to make sure he’s not about to miss his mouth entirely.

And then Phil moves too fast because he’s far too impatient and his nose bumps Dan’s and their lips barely brush and it’s awkward and Dan _definitely_ pulls back and Phil _tries_ not to be disappointed, tries not to let his heart hurt or his cheeks flush with heat. It doesn’t exactly work.

“Sor-” Phil’s halfway through an apology when Dan wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in, crushing their lips together just as intensely and awkwardly as Phil had earlier. Not that Phil actually cares, he’s too busy _kissing Dan_ , which really, he thinks, he should be doing a better job of focusing on.

 _Definitely more sweet than sour_ , he decides as they find a rhythm, less urgent than they’d been at first, and Phil has a moment to think _wow this is actually really happening_ before Dan’s other hand finds his chest and pushes him back; Phil’s heart plummets into rejection and disappointment, expecting he’s once again being thrown on the rollercoaster that is Dan, but Dan’s lips never leave Phil’s.

He lets Dan crawl on top of him and settle on his hips, amazed - and distracted - by the way Dan’s tongue runs across his lips; it’s gentle and unsure, but Phil opens his mouth without hesitation.

And then it’s all lips and tongue and hands everywhere, then Dan’s pulling away and sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head; Phil has to take a moment to remind himself to breathe because _wow_ it’s a breathtaking sight: Dan, warm and flushed and sitting on his lap, watching him with fire in his eyes. And then he _licks his lips_ , the ones that are puffy and pink and begging to be kissed more, and Phil has to remind himself that it’s only been, what, two days? _I’ve only known him two days, surely he doesn’t want-_

“What?” Dan’s voice, wrecked and a little hoarse, breaks Phil from his thoughts. But he’s immediately distracted again, because Dan’s half naked, so it’s not _really_ Phil’s fault he can’t stay focused. “ _What_?” The persistence is accompanied by a frown, one that tugs Dan’s lips down in a way that gives Phil pause. _What had I been thinking about again?_ Because Dan’s asking, and Phil promised him _whatever he wants._

“Are you, I mean, is this, uh, moving too fast?” Phil finally asks, once his brain has returned from the stratosphere long enough to remember his original thoughts. Dan’s frown deepens and he leans back a bit, which is not at _all_ the reaction Phil’s hoping for.

“I- is it, are we going too fast for _you_?” His brows scrunch together at the same time Phil’s eyes widen. ‘No, absolutely not’ sits on the tip of Phil’s tongue, but is that what Dan wants to hear? Or is this some sort of complicated test, and Phil’s supposed to say they ought to slow down, get to know one another a bit better first? He thinks that’s probably what the fanfiction Phil would do, the way Dan’s been writing it.

“Because if we are, I need to _seriously_ take a break,” Dan exhales a shaky laugh and runs his hand through his hair just as Phil opens his mouth to respond, but his heart leaps into his throat at the way Dan glances down. Admittedly, it takes him a second to get Dan’s meaning.

“ _Oh_ ,” Phil finally manages in response, cheeks flushing with even _more_ heat - if that’s at all possible. “No!” He finally blurts out, because it’s the truth and also if _Dan_ wants more then Phil’s not at all going to deny him what he wants. Dan looks back up to watch Phil, and that flash of desire returns for just a second.

“Are you _sure_?” Dan asks, lips twisting as he seems to bury that excitement, and Phil feels laughter bubbling up in his chest - is _he_ sure? Apparently, he doesn’t do a great job of stopping the laughter, and it comes out in a burst of giggles that leaves him biting his tongue.

“I _really_ want this,” Phil finally manages once he’s calmed down. Apparently, those words are enough for Dan, as he doesn’t waste a moment leaning back over, crashing their lips together and tugging at the hem of Phil’s shirt that he’s _sure_ they can’t get off him while he’s laying on the ground like this.

So he pushes Dan back and sits up, doing his best not to break contact, and _wow_ this is all kinds of close that he wouldn’t mind staying in for a while - then Dan moves his hips, just slightly, and Phil finds his hands doing everything possible to pull him closer, to tell him to do that again, just like that, without actually separating their lips for long enough to form the words.

Fortunately, Dan doesn’t need to be asked, rocking back into Phil in a steady rhythm that leaves Dan humming tiny moans against Phil’s mouth; Phil has to pull away _eventually,_ just long enough to suck in a breath that sounds more like a gasp before surging back in to recapture Dan’s lips. 

It’s not long til they’re both panting and a little sweaty and far too warm to still be wearing clothes - although they’ve somehow managed to remove Phil’s shirt at some point, but he can’t exactly remember when they’d broken apart long enough for a whole piece of fabric to pass both their faces. 

Well, until this exact second, when Dan pulls back and holds Phil’s shoulder to keep him from following.

“Wait, wait wait,” he inhales a few deep breaths, and Phil’s eyes can’t find a single place to land - he wants to watch his chest, the way it heaves and glistens just a bit, but also his lips, swollen and red and _claimed_ , or maybe his eyes, burning with a passion that Phil imagines match his own; really, Phil _hopes_ they match, because he feels like _that_ \- he feels that same fire in his chest, begging him to lean back in, to taste every inch of Dan, to combat the sweetness from his lips with the salt from his skin. 

But Dan said wait, so he’s waiting.

“Can we, uhm,” now Phil’s properly focused, cool air in his lungs and on his back providing some return to his senses. Dan’s eyes shift to the side, and Phil’s suddenly worried - had he done something wrong, something that made Dan uncomfortable, and he hadn’t even realized? Why hadn’t Dan said anything? _Although I guess this would be Dan saying something right now…_ “Move to the bed, maybe?” Phil’s eyes go wide when Dan looks back up to meet them.

“ _Oh_ ,” Phil says for the second time in what feels like minutes. But he supposes he’s never claimed to be eloquent, that seems to be more Dan’s territory. “Yeah,” he nods, probably a bit too enthusiastically as a bright grin tugs at his cheeks because _Dan actually wants this, he actually wants the real Phil and not the fanfiction taking-it-slow version!_

Not that Phil wouldn’t be okay taking it slow, but he’s impulsive by nature, and there are a _lot_ of impulses he would very much like to act on. And Dan seems more than okay with that.

Dan stands, and somehow Phil manages to do the same, in spite of the way his knees go weak at watching the smooth planes of Dan’s back as he walks over to the bed. Which really isn’t all that far, so he only has to worry about collapsing for a few moments. 

And then he can actually _allow_ himself to collapse, because he’s made it the few steps to the edge of the mattress - and it’s probably for the best, as Dan’s flopped down on his back and Phil’s definitely lost all ability to function as he watches Dan’s slender fingers undo the button of his jeans and slide them halfway down his thighs. Phil thinks he might end up drooling, except that would be a very awkward and decidedly unsexy thing to do, so he clamps his mouth shut and crawls over to where Dan’s struggling to get his skinny jeans off the rest of the way.

Somehow - and really, Phil has no idea how, but he’s thanking every deity that ever existed - he helps Dan out of his jeans and manages _not_ to have a heart attack at the sight of the boy laid out beneath him. He does, however, get pretty damn close when Dan’s thumbs catch under the waistband of his pants and tug down just slightly, exposing sharp hip bones and smooth skin. Phil doesn’t think he’s ever felt a sincere _hatred_ for a piece of fabric before in his life - except maybe that really scratchy sock he’d worn once because he thought the dinosaur pattern was cool - until right this very moment.

“Is this-” Dan doesn’t even get to finish his question before Phil’s nodding, locking eyes with him and trying his best not to hyperventilate as Dan removes his final layer. If he thought Dan fully clothed was pretty, Dan fully _naked_ …

“Okay,” Dan says after what Phil’s sure is an uncomfortable silence - except _he_ wasn’t uncomfortable, aside from the tightness in his own jeans. “Your turn,” Phil’s been staring, sure, but he’s been staring at _all_ of Dan, so he doesn’t miss the way he bites lip, a thing Phil’s noticing he does whenever he’s nervous or unsure.

Phil leans over, trying his best to keep his balance, and presses a messy kiss to Dan’s lips before half-rolling off the bed to remove his own jeans and pants. It’s a frustratingly slow process, as Phil can’t get his fingers to work right, and his cheeks heat up with every passing second. 

Then other hands find his, warm and soft and somehow a lot more dexterous, and Dan’s the one undoing the button and sliding his fingers under the waistbands of both layers separating them, sliding them down slowly, purposefully, and Phil’s having trouble focusing on anything but Dan.

Dan, who sucks in a breath once Phil’s clothes have dropped to the floor, who then _exhales_ that breath against Phil, and the warm puff of air sends a wave of heat to pool in his stomach. Then Phil’s pushing Dan back to the mattress, finding his lips, letting his hands wander, and Dan’s making needy noises against his mouth and finding every way to pull Phil closer.

\---------------------------------------

Phil wants to say he’s waking up, but that’s not exactly what it is, given he never actually fell asleep. But that’s what it feels like, coming out of the floating haze that he and Dan have been laying in for the past however long. 

His arm is still curled around Dan from where he’d been holding him close, and Dan’s fingers seem to still be twined in Phil’s hair. Neither of them moves much, but Phil can feel the _awareness_ seeping back in, sharpening his senses to a moderately normal level. 

But then Dan’s shifting a _lot_ , and Phil’s suddenly overwhelmed with the idea that maybe he regrets it, maybe he wants to leave, maybe he wishes Phil had been that slow, careful guy in his fanfiction, maybe he’s-

“Hello,” Dan mumbles into Phil’s shoulder, and his shifting only brings him closer, his warm, sort-of-sticky skin pressed against Phil’s in a way that would probably be gross except it very much isn’t - it’s comforting and intimate and a _lot_ , but Phil thinks he might love it. He turns to press a kiss to Dan’s sweaty hair, turning to tight little curls at the edges.

“Hi,” he can’t help but grin as he responds, and he can feel Dan’s lips move against him - he imagines it’s a smile as well. Especially given the way Dan burrows his head further into the crook of Phil’s neck, the way he turns fully on his side to curl up to Phil. 

“Hey,” Dan pokes his chest, and Phil’s just on the edge of laughter and another response - _‘hola’, I think_ \- when he continues. “Did you, uh, still want to do that video?” Phil’s eyebrows lift, both at the reminder that _oh right there’d been something we were supposed to do before all this_ and at the nervousness in Dan’s voice.

“Probably with some clothes on,” Phil jokes, and Dan huffs out a breath against his neck.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “but if you don’t want to, we don’t- uh, you don’t have to do it just to humor me,” Dan mumbles. Phil blinks, trying to process the words - to be fair, his brain still hasn’t fully recovered yet. But he gets the meaning, eventually, and turns and shifts down on the bed so he’s face to face with Dan.

“I really like your idea, and I really _really_ want to do it. With you, preferably,” he adds for good measure. He’s trying hard not to grin, even though he wants to, because Dan needs to understand he’s very serious right now. Phil’s not great at being serious, but this moment feels important. Dan’s eyes drift to the side and he chews at his bottom lip - Phil thinks the poor thing has been abused quite a lot, between Dan’s nerves and Phil’s...well, Phil definitely likes that lip. And his other lip. And pretty much everything else _Dan_. “You’re not just saying that? I mean, if you don’t want me around...” He says after a quiet, tense moment, voice small and soft. Now Phil does smile, properly, and leans forward to kiss Dan. It’s gentle and brief, nothing like their kisses were only a short while ago, but it leaves Dan’s lip curled up just a bit, so Phil considers it a win. Until his own thoughts barge in, and then _he’s_ the one looking away, uncertain.

“Of course I do, but you don’t have to- I mean, I know I’m not exactly the, uh, the person in your…” he trails off, feeling strange about mentioning Dan’s fanfiction aloud. To Dan. It just seems like a big weird loop that shouldn’t exist, Phil being both the subject and the reader and talking to Dan, who he’s imagined as the reader but is actually the writer. And they’re now talking about it. Well, Phil is. His brain hurts a bit.

“Phil, I-” Dan breaks off before he gets anywhere, though, scrunching his brows in confusion. Then he huffs out a breath of laughter that turns into a full grin. “Phil, I don’t care if you’re not the person I’m writing about, that’s just a _character_.” Phil frowns.

“But it’s _fan_ -”

“Yeah, fanfiction, I know, but that doesn’t mean it’s _you_ , and it definitely doesn’t mean that’s who I _want_ you to be.” Dan’s still smiling, but it’s softer now, and he lifts a hand to the side of Phil’s face to rest on his cheek. “I like you because you are who you are, that’s all.” Phil can’t help the little bolt of electricity that shoots through his veins when Dan says he _likes_ Phil. 

And then he realizes he must be grinning, because Dan’s leaning in for another kiss and their teeth click against each other and it’s sort of funny but also perfect and _right_ in a way Phil can’t ignore.

Well, he ignores it the second he opens his eyes to find Dan frowning. _Wait, I thought we were happy! What happened?_ He’s about to ask when Dan’s mouth opens, then closes again, then opens. Phil’s briefly reminded of a fish, a very distressed one, with brown eyes and scrunched brows and messed up hair and very kissable lips and- _okay, maybe I should stop picturing Dan as a fish._

“I have to abandon it.” Dan finally says, resolute in the way he looks up at Phil. Then he squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head so it’s leaned fully against Phil’s chest. Phil is...very confused, to say the least.

“Abandon…” he prompts, hoping Dan’s not about to say ‘abandon the video’ or ‘abandon _you_ ’ or something equally disastrous. He’s tempted to put a hand on Dan’s arm, to offer some kind of comfort, but he’s not sure if that’s the right thing to do if Dan’s about to just take back everything he said and roll out of bed and out of Phil’s life. _Great, now I’m imagining a fish Dan rolling around my room…_

“The story! If I keep it going, people will...I don’t know, suspect I know you? How else could this whole thing be interpreted?” He groans, then, and the vibration tickles Phil’s chest. Or maybe it’s the laughter hiding in Phil’s lungs, threatening to spill out even though Dan’s clearly bothered by this.

“You could, uh…” Phil decides he should run a hand over Dan’s arm, then, because his head isn’t really coming up with any ideas to help save Dan’s fanfiction, and it’s the only way he can properly think to comfort him.

“No, no,” Dan waves a hand in the small space between them, “I’ll just let it die, people can cope.” He leans in, hugging himself as close to Phil as he’s able; Phil’s heart swells in his chest until he feels like the Grinch on Christmas morning. 

“Besides,” Dan says, and Phil can hear the smile in his voice, “I think I like reality a lot better anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies! If you'd like, feel free to give it a cheeky [reblog on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/174821035992/printer-error-part-2)
> 
> Inspired by my dear friend's own printing mishaps and with the greatest of thanks to the lovely [phantasieslide](https://phantasieslide.tumblr.com/) and [laddyplester](https://laddyplester.tumblr.com/) for betaing!


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